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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441797">Reprieve</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine0314/pseuds/imagine0314'>imagine0314</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sobeck Women [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, Psychological Trauma, Sleep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:54:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine0314/pseuds/imagine0314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A small drabble request that ended up fitting perfectly with my current continuity. This is a lightly edited version of the original that appears on my Tumblr.</p><p>Takes place at the end of/directly after <i>Of Mother and Machine.</i></p><p>------</p><p>Talanah and Aloy are broken, beaten, tired.</p><p>And they deserve to sleep.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aloy &amp; Talanah Khane Padish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sobeck Women [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reprieve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s in the <em>after</em> that they sleep.</p><p>And they sleep for what feels like months.</p><p>Their days feel monotonous, short and long and restful and restless. Neither can stand the sense of inaction. They are, after all, two bodies trained for the fight. For war. For the hunt. For <em>movement.</em></p><p>GAIA tells them to be still. To heal.</p><p>They’re both grateful for it. They both hate it.</p><p>Talanah’s thigh aches, and more often than not, her entire being is <em>pain.</em> It becomes a companion. It becomes a reminder. And the only reason any of it is bearable is because she knows it’s a trade she would have made over and over again.</p><p>A chunk of her leg for a beating heart.</p><p><em>“It’s a good deal,”</em> she thinks to herself, nestled into Aloy’s shoulder–-the one she can still move. She’s lost count of how many nights and afternoons she falls asleep with her face buried in wild red hair, the scent of the redhead’s favorite oils mixing with her skin.</p><p>She’s <em>tired.</em> So tired. She hasn’t done anything worthy of the feeling but it settles in her bones anyway. GAIA tells them it’s normal. A biological response to trauma.</p><p>The Sun-Hawk tries desperately to let herself believe that instead of hating herself for feeling so weak.</p><p>The up and down of slow breath is the only thing that brings her anything resembling peace. She whispers quiet a <em>“I love you,”</em> in the blurry place between waking and dreams, receiving only a small whimpered noise from deep in Aloy’s chest. It’s enough.</p><p>Petra or Elisabet bring them the occasional plate of food which often goes untouched or barely picked at, despite the urging of the two older women. Petra likes to remind them that eating is part of healing, too, and time-honored Oseram tradition, at that.</p><p>Sometimes, they reverse.</p><p>And instead of desperately trying to bury herself in Aloy’s body, the redhead takes Talanah’s place, instead curling into <em>her.</em> Aloy’s arm is held stiff and close. She’s slowly gaining movement but every day is a struggle for just another few degrees of bend in her elbow and looseness in her fingers. The angry red burn trailing from pinky to shoulder is an ever-present indicator of the damage done.</p><p>Talanah holds her still when it’s Aloy’s turn to cry softly in her sleep, from the tight ache in her arm or nightmares, or both, it doesn’t matter. Talanah rocks her through it, carding her fingers through red hair late at night when she can’t sleep herself, or kissing the top of Aloy’s head in the afternoon as they both drift away.</p><p>Aloy wakes in starts and fits, sometimes unsure of where she is. For all Talanah’s seen, Aloy’s seen more and knowing that hurts the Carja more than her leg ever will. She rubs the redhead’s back when her breath comes hard and fast, when there is no calm despite the appearance of slumber. When she quiets, it makes Talanah’s heart catch in her throat.</p><p>Some days feel better than others. Talanah wakes to weak winter sunlight and moves as best she can, working her leg and feeling like performing the simplest of functions is an accomplishment. But often the sleep comes without rest, and they each wake groaning, every muscle clenched, jaws tight and teeth aching on top of their injuries.</p><p>Elisabet comes and goes when she and Petra aren’t sleeping as well, bringing medicine that soothes their bodies and numbs their minds just enough to keep them functioning. Sometimes Aloy sleeps at her mother’s side instead, listening to the drumming in the older woman’s ribs that she can’t seem to go without.</p><p>It’s during these nights that Talanah can’t sleep <em>at all,</em> even if they’re still under the same roof. She’d long since given up the idea of going back to her own apartment. There is <em>nothing</em> for her there, because Aloy has become <em>everything.</em></p><p>Aloy has become <em>home.</em> Safety. Recovery.</p><p>And so they continue, trading spots and places and days and nights and muffled sweet nothings that pull them through the worst depths their broken bodies and minds have to offer. Talanah breathes her in until she doesn’t know the taste of air anymore, doesn’t know the thrall of unconsciousness until she feels Aloy’s weight pressing in to her.</p><p>Talanah knows. She's known since they set out for the Cauldron, but it hammers in her chest more and more as one day fades into another: if they make it through this, Aloy is all she wants. Forever. She wants all of her, all the future can bring with an insatiable hunger that still doesn’t let her eat, but it lets her want <em>this.</em></p><p>She knows that little by little, they are waking. And the waking is hard but can’t be done without the rest. She presses herself hard against Aloy’s ribs, listening as the redhead herself often does. For the first time in months, she feels Aloy completely loosen beneath her, a near-palpable sigh of relief escaping them both. For the first time in far too long, she’s temporarily forgotten the ache in her thigh, and Aloy’s arm moves just a little bit more freely.</p><p>They will wake soon, and come back to life slowly, but surely. It will be hard and painful, and unpleasant.</p><p>And so, for now–-for tonight-–Talanah breathes in the woman she loves more than anything else.</p><p>And they <em>sleep.</em></p>
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